by Harley Wylde
A man came in and smiled at us, holding out his hand to me. “You must be Isabella. I’m Dr. Myron.”
I shook his hand, surprised that he looked so young. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. I glanced at Connor, and his eyes were narrowed again. Something told me Ridley had left out the part where her doctor was young and good-looking. Venom didn’t seem like the type to tolerate another man looking at his wife’s lady bits, and I didn’t think Connor was going to appreciate it either. Not that I was married to Connor, but I was his just the same.
Dr. Myron turned toward Connor and held out his hand. “And you’re the possible father-to-be?”
Connor nodded and shook the man’s hand.
“Your nurse is rude,” I said.
Connor’s head jerked my way, and the doctor gave me a perplexed look.
“Which nurse?” Dr. Myron asked.
“The blonde who checked my weight and stuff, then brought me to this room.”
“Cindy was rude to you?” he asked, still looking confused.
“Not me, exactly, but she kept looking at Connor like she wanted to lick him from head to toe. Then when she found out he’s not my dad and that we’re together, she looked disgusted and ran off.”
Connor scowled at me, and I realized I’d used his real name in public. I’d forgotten that outside the house I was supposed to call him Torch. It had just slipped out.
Dr. Myron’s eyebrows rose, and he stepped into the hall.
While he was gone, Connor glared me.
“I didn’t mean it,” I said. “I’m just so used to calling you Connor at home that I didn’t even think about it.”
He sighed and cracked his neck. “It’s fine, baby. Just try not to do that at the clubhouse.”
The doctor returned with nurse bitch in tow.
“Cindy, did you insult my patient and her husband?” Dr. Myron asked.
Cindy’s jaw tightened. “She’s just a kid. It’s perverted.”
“Since I know you saw Isabella’s file, you’re well aware that she’s an adult. It’s not your place to judge our patients. You owe Isabella and her husband an apology,” Dr. Myron said.
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t correct him. That’s twice he’d called Connor my husband. I glanced his way, but he didn’t seem bothered by the word. Cindy looked like she’d been sucking on raw lemons, but she spat out an apology and left. Dr. Myron didn’t look pleased as he shut the door and turned to face us again.
“She’s on probation. Or she was. I can assure you that once this appointment is over, she will no longer be in my employ. I’m very sorry for her behavior,” Dr. Myron said. “Now, let’s start with some basics. I see on your forms that your last period was six weeks ago.”
“Yes,” I said.
“And that’s why you think you’re pregnant?” Dr. Myron asked.
“She was throwing up this morning,” Connor said.
Dr. Myron nodded.
“My, um… my breasts have been more tender than usual. I just thought maybe my period was about to start. They always get tender when it’s that time of the month.”
“Well, the first thing we need to do is a pregnancy test. I’m going to have someone come and draw some blood. I prefer using that over urine because the results are more accurate, especially this early. I’ll send Tricia in, and once we have the results, I’ll come talk to you.”
“How long do the results take?” Connor asked.
“Not long. As long as the lab isn’t backed up, we should have an answer in about fifteen minutes. We handle everything in-house, so I don’t have to send it out somewhere.”
Connor nodded, and Dr. Myron walked out, closing the door behind him.
“I know you were busy this morning. You didn’t have to come with me,” I said softly, looking down at my lap. “I’m sure Johnny would have brought me, or one of the other Prospects.”
“Do you not want me here?” he asked.
My gaze jerked up to his. “Of course I want you here. I wanted to wake up beside you! But I know that can’t happen all the time. I know that you have things to do, a club to run. I’m just trying not to be a burden to you.”
His gaze hardened, and he came forward, his hand gripping my hair and tilting my head back. “Let’s get one thing straight right now, baby. You are not now, nor have you ever been a burden to me. You’re my woman. Mine. I will always be there for you. Is the shit going on at the club important? Yes. Is it more important than you? No.”
His touch softened, and he kissed me, his lips lingering a moment.
A nurse bustled into the room, smiling brightly at us. “Ready for me to stick you?”
I hated needles, so not especially, but I held out an arm for her. Connor held my hand while the nurse got the blood she needed, then said the doctor would return with the results shortly. Once the door was closed, Connor’s lips were on mine again. His tongue thrust into my mouth as his hands landed on my waist. My legs spread, and he stepped between them.
“Knowing you’re naked under this scrap of fabric is making me hard as fuck,” he murmured against my lips. He gripped the gown and started to lift it, but I reached out placed my hands on his wrists.
“Connor, someone could come in.”
He growled softly, kissed me harder, then took a step back. Passion was blazing in his eyes, and I knew I’d come really close to being fucked in the doctor’s office. As it was, there was now a wet spot under me because he had me dripping. If the doctor had to look at me down there, I was going to die of mortification. Connor went back to his position against the wall, but there was no hiding the fact he was hard. His jeans were molded over the hard ridge. He noticed my gaze on his crotch and reached down to adjust himself.
“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to lock that damn door and fuck you. I don’t give a shit who hears your screams.”
My eyes widened a moment, and I looked away. I had no doubt that he was dead serious. As much as I wanted to feel him inside me, this wasn’t the time or place. There was no way I was going to spend the rest of my appointment with cum dripping out of me. I glanced at Connor, and he was smirking at me. The ass. He knew what he was doing to me and was enjoying every minute.
The doctor returned a short while later, and for that I was thankful. If I’d been left alone in this room with Connor for much longer, I might have actually let him take me on this padded table. My body pulsed with need, and I swear it felt like my clit had its own heartbeat. Dr. Myron looked from me to Connor. He grinned a little when he saw Connor’s state, then faced me again.
“Well, congratulations.” Dr. Myron smiled. “You’re pregnant. We can try an ultrasound if you’d like, see if we can hear the baby’s heartbeat. If you’re six weeks, we should be able to. Any earlier than that, and we’d need a vaginal ultrasound.”
“Uh.” I looked at Connor who stared at the doctor like he’d grown a second head. I looked back over at Dr. Myron. “If I’m pregnant, I’m less than a month right now. I wasn’t with anyone before that. So, I guess that means the regular ultrasound wouldn’t work.”
“What the fuck is a vaginal ultrasound?” Connor asked.
“Instead of using a smaller wand over her stomach, we’d use a longer one that has to go inside her. It’s inserted vaginally.” Dr. Myron smiled a little. “A little like a sex toy, but it’s attached to a machine that will let you see and hear your baby.”
Connor was shaking his head before the doctor even finished.
Dr. Myron seemed amused. “Would it make any difference if I told you I was in a committed relationship, and that my boyfriend is more than enough for me?”
“Boyfriend?” I asked.
Dr. Myron winked at me. “I have a thing for older men too.”
I giggled and finally understood why it didn’t bother Venom for Ridley to come see Dr. Myron. The man wasn’t the least bit interested in her lady parts, or any lady parts for that matter. I’d be willing to bet he’d enjoyed
that glance at Connor’s hard cock, though. The look on Connor’s face said he still didn’t like the idea of the vaginal ultrasound, and considering how wet I was right now, I really didn’t want one either.
“We can wait and try an ultrasound at your next appointment. I want you to come back in four weeks. We can get a better idea of a possible due date by then. I don’t want to do anything that will make either of you uncomfortable, unless it can’t be helped.” Dr. Myron looked at Connor. “You’re not going to castrate me when I have to deliver the baby, are you? Looking at certain parts of her will be inevitable.”
“Fuck,” Connor muttered.
I didn’t know what the silly man thought would happen. If he hadn’t wanted another man to look between my legs, he should have found a female doctor for me.
Dr. Myron focused on me again. “I’m going to call in a prescription for prenatal vitamins for you. You can start them tomorrow. Most of my patients prefer taking them with their breakfast. If the nausea gets too bad, I can give you something for that too.”
“I was still a little nauseated after I threw up, but I’ve been fine since we’ve been here,” I said.
“Good. Maybe you’ll only have it in the mornings, then. Some women have morning sickness all day for the first trimester, and a rare percentage have it almost the entire pregnancy.”
I wondered if I looked as horrified as I felt.
“The ladies up front will get your next appointment set up. If you need to reschedule, be sure to call twenty-four hours in advance or there’s a cancellation fee of fifty dollars.” Dr. Myron shook my hand, then Connor’s. “I’ll see you in a month.”
He left, and Connor helped me get dressed, then we walked up front and set up my next appointment. I still felt a little dazed. Connor wasn’t showing much emotion, and it worried me. We’d talked about the possibility of kids, and he’d seemed to want them. Had he changed his mind? He hadn’t so much as cracked a smile when the doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. Did he not want this baby?
The ride back to the compound was quiet. I stared out the window, not knowing what to say, or if I should say anything at all. I didn’t like the way I was feeling right now. My hand went to my belly. No matter what Connor thought about this pregnancy, I already loved the child growing inside me. The moment the doctor had said I was pregnant, I knew I wanted this baby. I just didn’t know what would happen if Connor decided he didn’t.
I was fighting back tears as we reached the house. Connor shut off the truck and unlocked the house. He stayed on the porch, standing in the doorway.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” he said. “Have a few errands to run.”
“Fine,” I said softly, refusing to cry in front of him.
He stared at me a moment, then shut the door and left. I heard the rumble of his motorcycle, and then I was alone. No. Not alone. I rubbed my belly. I’d never be alone again. Even if Connor decided he didn’t want us, I’d always have a part of him.
“Why did you make me love you?” I asked, staring at the door where he’d stood moments before.
Sighing, I turned and went upstairs. All I wanted to do was sleep. Maybe after a nap things would look better.
Chapter Eight
Torch
Pregnant. Isabella was pregnant.
Even with my suspicions, and hearing the confirmation from the doctor, I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. At fifty-one, I’d thought I’d never have kids. It was good to know my swimmers worked, apparently really damn well. I should have asked more questions at the appointment, but I hadn’t been thinking clearly. I was so amped up, my cock aching for Isabella, that I’d just wanted the hell out of there. Then on the way home, I’d realized what I needed to do.
She’d been mine for three years. My name was inked on her skin, a warning to any who came near her that she was already claimed. But as I thought about raising a family with her, I knew that wasn’t enough. Dr. Myron had called me her husband several times during the visit, and fuck if that didn’t sound damn nice. I’d never wanted to get married. Isabella was already mine, and by the club’s standards, she was my wife. But I wanted the rest of the world to see her that way too. I wanted her to share more than my home. I wanted her to share my name.
After I picked up her prenatal vitamins, I stopped by the jewelry store on Main Street. I idled my bike at the curb and put a call in to Wire. If anyone could fix this, it would be him. The man could make anything happen if it could be done through a computer.
“Yeah, Pres. What do you need?” Wire asked.
“I need a marriage license. I want to marry Isabella, and I want to do it tonight. I don’t give a shit what you have to do, make it happen.”
“Uh. You’re getting married?”
“Yes, dipshit. Just do as I say. I need that piece of paper by tonight. If you can’t make it happen through that computer of yours, do whatever you have to. I don’t care who you have to threaten, fuck, or pay off.”
“You got it,” Wire said.
I disconnected the call and stepped into the small shop. The woman behind the counter didn’t look very impressed with me. Her disdain was clear even from across the room. I browsed the cases until I found the selection of wedding rings. Maybe I should have asked her to marry me first, given her an engagement ring, but I didn’t want to wait.
A platinum set caught my attention. The man’s ring was just a plain band, but the woman’s had small diamonds scattered around it. It wasn’t overly flashy. It was delicate, like my woman, and I knew Isabella would love it. I pointed to the set.
“I want those.”
The woman came and looked down into the case. She stared down her nose at me. “That set is three thousand dollars.”
I pulled out my wallet and took out my bank card. “You accept Visa?”
The woman took the card from me, careful not to touch my fingers. She ran it through her machine, and when it cleared, which I’d known it would, she pulled the rings out of the case. I slid the man’s ring onto my finger and was glad to see it was the right size. I only hoped Isabella’s would fit her too. The snooty woman put the rings into boxes, then handed them to me. I shoved them into my pocket and walked out. Wasn’t the first time someone had treated me like trash, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. But if anyone ever thought to do that to my son or daughter, I’d beat the shit out of them.
If I weren’t on my bike, I’d have picked up some flowers for Isabella. The woman deserved the moon, and I’d give it to her if I could. I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it out at a stoplight.
Wire: It’s done.
Me: Call Preacher. See if he’s still ordained. I want this done at seven tonight.
Wire: Where did you plan on doing this?
Me: Clubhouse. No club sluts allowed in the compound tonight.
Wire. Consider it done.
I went straight home, hoping like hell Isabella had a dress that would work for tonight. Maybe I should have given her a proper wedding, with flowers and shit, but I wasn’t a very patient man. Now that the idea had settled in my head to make her my official wife, I wanted it done. And I wanted it done now.
The lights were off in the house, and when I stepped inside it was eerily quiet.
“Isabella,” I called out.
I didn’t hear anything. I searched for her room by room, finally locating her in our bedroom. She was curled in the middle of the bed, but the tearstains on her cheeks gutted me. I stretched out next to her and smoothed her hair back from her face. Her breathing was deep and even, and it was obvious she’d cried herself to sleep. I was such an asshole. I hadn’t meant to be, but it didn’t change anything. In my determination to get married right-fucking-now, I’d hurt her.
“Bella,” I said softly. “Wake up, baby. We need to talk.”
Her eyes fluttered open. A flash of happiness lit up her face when she saw me, then she shuttered her expression.
“I’m sorry I took off like that, but I
had something I needed to take care of,” I told her. “There’s something we need to do tonight. I need you to get up and shower, then put on a pretty dress.”
“We’re going out?” she asked, pushing up on an elbow.
“Not exactly, but you’ll want to look your best.” My fingers trailed over her cheek. “Although, I’ve never seen you look less than stunning.”
She snorted. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re my mess, and you’re beautiful. I’m sorry if I hurt you and made you cry. I didn’t mean to.”
“When you didn’t say anything on the way home and then just left, I thought maybe you were upset about the baby. I thought…” She bit her lip. “I thought maybe you didn’t want it, or me.”
I pulled her against my chest. “I want you. I want both of you. Christ, haven’t you figured it out, Bella? I love you so fucking much it hurts.”
Her breath hitched. “You love me?”
“Yeah, baby. I love you.”
She started crying again, and I didn’t know what I’d done wrong this time.
“I l-love you t-too.”
“Go get ready, baby. I’ll shower in the guest bathroom. If I get in there with you right now, I’ll want to fuck you, and then we’ll be late.”
I kissed her, then rolled out of bed before I was tempted to do more. She scurried into the bathroom, and I pulled out my best pair of jeans, a black button-down shirt, and some clean socks and underwear, then headed down the hall toward the other bathroom. I showered and dressed, then returned to the bedroom. Isabella was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, blowing her hair dry in the sexiest damn bra and panties I’d ever seen. I leaned against the bathroom doorway and just admired her.
After she’d dried and brushed her hair, she pulled it up in some sort of fancy knot, then put on a little makeup. I personally thought she was gorgeous without the crap she’d put on her face, but I knew women thought it made them prettier.
“I’m going downstairs to wait on you. If I stay up here, I might not be able to control myself.” I winked at her, then went down the kitchen to wait.